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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: I'm not waiting anymore.


Posting has commenced.

Posted on 2007-03-03 at 19:44:01.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Yup.


That be the skinny...

Posted on 2007-03-03 at 02:16:56.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: We're on!


The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:49am

As the two gunmen left his side, Coyote hit his contact in the hopes of some assistance. Lobo answered quickly, his voice tense on the other end.

“¿Qué?” Lobo queried. “Where are you, hombre? We lost you about an hour ago.”

The location was delivered in quick, hushed tones followed by a small term of silence on the other end. Then, “I can get something en route in about five minutes. That’s the closest we’ve got in the vicinity. That be quick enough?”

Meanwhile, Croaker and Preacher crouched some hundred meters from the Hole ready to make their move.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:49am





Meat Location: The Farris Family Inn – Night City – 10:15pm; The Net: Night City Grid – Night City University Net Campus/Administration Building.

“Can I help you?” the voice asked him. He turned an about face and stared into the eyes of the seductive AI program. Her voice was like a symphonic orchestra, beautiful, melodic and sweet. Whoever designed this program definitely knew what they were doing. Her bent over form revealed the cleavage that he had so noticed earlier, making his heart race slightly faster. Jazzer was always better able to associate with net entities more so than women in real life.

“Umm....uhhh....yeah,” he replied as he raised his gaze to the green dots that were supposed to be her pupils. He had not expected for his invisiblity to be pierced by the AI, it having had worked all night. “Is there any way that I could perhaps check the mail of one Merideth Ackerman. Her father has hired to help in the case of her disappearance. I am a private investigator and not a cop, so I have no credentials to show you.”

He tried to keep his voice steady and attempted to persuade the AI that he was for real here.

Artificial intelligence was a different challenge to persuade than a real person. Though they were programmed to mimic various personalities they were, in fact, algorithms and logic guided their processes. But Jazzer knew this. He was an experienced programmer, one of the best on the market as a matter of fact, and he knew the proper ploy he needed to play. The role of a private investigator would most likely make sense, and since logic was the driving factor within the AI, Jazzer was gambling on the fact that if this Merideth had been missing for long enough the AI would likely conclude that an investigation made sense… His gamble paid off.

“Certainly, sir. Right this way.” The AI turned about and led the way to the wall of boxes, then waved her hand similarly to the way a gameshow hostess presents prizes. The box that was Merideth’s lit up, outlined by a blue glow. Imagery of letters began to flow from within the box though the door hadn’t opened. They were carried by dove wings and flew out to hover in front of Jazzer. The AI swiveled about again and walked her sexy walk to behind the counter once more where she busied herself with pretend post office work.

There weren’t many emails. Especially for a beautiful college girl. Jazzer filtered through the emails quickly, looking at subject lines and trying to determine whether something was interesting enough to copy. After a couple of seconds he quickly copied everything, releasing the emails back to the box and closing it down. This left the netrunner alone in the post office with the inattentive AI.

Meat Location: The Farris Family Inn – Night City – 10:15pm; The Net: Night City Grid – Night City University Net Campus/Student Union/Bookstore.




The Mean Streets – Upper East Side - Night City/Rooftop next to the Hole – 12:48pm

DigitalScribe tapped Guardian on the shoulder with a quick, back of the hand swat. He’d seen the procession as well and now he was eager to see what was going on inside. “OK, ideas on how we’re going to get the skinny on this meet?” The fact that the media was asking his bodyguard’s advice on the matter was not just born from the man’s lack of tactical knowledge for urban infiltration, but that he was really stumped how they were going to get anything worth while from their current location.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side - Night City/Rooftop next to The Hole – 12:48am


Posted on 2007-02-28 at 03:52:08.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Good?


Char eyed Dapple in her activities wondering after the thief's intentions. When Da' Moon grabbed Talas by the chin, Char was momentarily caught up with concern that her action might just spoil her disguise. But Dapple played it off with ease and when Talas stood once more the ranger glanced at Arien, raising his eyebrows as if to say, 'Pa-leeeeeese.' Then he motioned towards the grate once more.

"If'n dis 'appy li'l party be o'er den; can we en'er da keep now?"

Posted on 2007-02-27 at 05:22:30.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Hopefully all of us.


It isn't so much an effort to declare a winner as an opportunity to advance your character, effect the storyline, etc. through excellent roleplay. In a lot of games the incentive to actually roleplay is overruled by the desire to improve your character statistics, gain new skills, earn bigger and better numbers, etc. The infusion of a Plot Point system helps people realize that the idea of roleplay is to play the character for the benefit of the ongoing story. The numbers on your character sheet are there to help direct your capabilities within the storyline. A lot of gamers have forgotten this (it is one reason why I have a beef with D&D after all of these years, though we won't get into that). In any case, winners are defined by the fact that your character is still alive when all is said and done (or not, if your character died in a way befitting their personality) and that you had fun while playing them, helping everyone else in the game do the same thing.

*Steps down off soap box*

The great thing is that we're all doing a bang-up job!

Posted on 2007-02-27 at 05:03:04.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Aight...


So Wyatt could easily respond to Sam, but I liked the "wrapped up in his own thoughts" idea so I'm not going to. On to the meeting?

Posted on 2007-02-24 at 04:11:17.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Takin' a little pressure off the DM...


Char quickly scanned the group as they made their responses. Dey be as unsure as yerself, Char-lad. That wasn’t a good thing to conclude. The ranger knew that he didn’t have any magical knowledge, so he relied on those who did to fill him in on what he lacked. When they didn’t know either that meant that they were moving through a black cave with no light and Char didn’t like that feeling. Glancing towards the knight he wondered what their intrepid leader had to say about things. They hadn’t much time do decide on whether they wanted to continue, or back off. He’d heard of divination magic, captains in the camps he’d grown up in had often spoken of the benefit and Char had wondered why they needed scouts like he’d grown to be at all with that kind of magical assistance. If this were a wide sweep of magical scrying their position was compromised and the ranger felt a desire to return to the cliff. Higher ground could offer a distinct advantage if they were required to defend themselves against Imperial attacks. Then again—Char glanced over his shoulder once more, peering at the keep with narrowed eyes—if it weren’t, they’d be wasting precious hours and run the risk of being discovered.

Shaking his head, Char decided that Arien was preoccupied with thoughts of Alloryn.

“Kilgim,” he said in a hushed tone. “Pray, my frien’. If fer no udder reason dan t’ quie’ da big man der.” The ranger dipped his head in Talas’ direction before continuing. “I says we take’r luck wit’ da keep, move quick an’ ‘ope dat we be undetected.

“Da’ Moon’ll take da lead, der, lessen ya ‘ave differin’ views, Arien. Arien shou’ be secon’, Talas numma three, da two o’ yous—“ Char motioned at the mages. “—Come nex’, den Kilgim, an’ I be bringin’ up da back. Dat’ll keep dose o’ ya wit’ da spell quie’ an’ in da middle.”

Char glanced over his shoulder again, motioning at the entrance, “Well? As Eftari always be sayin’, ‘light yer heels lads, cause da gods ain’t gonna move da eart’ unner yer feet fer ya.'”


Posted on 2007-02-24 at 03:45:14.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Roger.


Thanks for the heads up.

I'm waiting for Eol to post his first take on Preacher before moving forward. If I don't see him before Sunday night I'll try to post then. Thanks for your patience.

Posted on 2007-02-24 at 03:08:16.
Edited on 2007-02-24 at 03:47:36 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: I'm one of those three.


Yup, yup, yup... I am.

Posted on 2007-02-22 at 01:39:22.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Ain't no one sitting idle!


Ya all're coming along! J/K

Actually only need Sam and Willow.

Posted on 2007-02-22 at 01:38:04.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Any luck with a final player?


So, anyone know of someone reliable to take over Bullseye? Should we just continue? What's the general census?

Posted on 2007-02-21 at 03:43:57.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: He is.


Blammm sent me a PM apologizing for the delay. He had a legitimate excuse so we're only looking for one more player to take on Bullseye.

Posted on 2007-02-18 at 00:27:05.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Huh, what!?


Char was impressed with Arien’s reserve. He’d known the knight long enough to recognize a good deal of growth within him and he respected him for it; listening to the plan of action with only a little trepidation. When Arien opened the air for suggestions, Char inserted his two bits as quickly as possible.

“Don’na see much use in da spellslingers makin’ wif da distractin’,” he tilted his head towards the direction of the two men. “Shouldn’ we make t’ sneak in unseen an’ unheard? A distractin’ migh’ jus’ aler’ da guards t’ be watchin’ fer us full now. I say’t be bedda t’ wait on’na distractin’ ‘till no choice we be ‘avin’ bu’ ta give up our position.”

(OOC: Later)

Having finished with the plan Char thought to find a little rest in preparation for the night’s events. Moving away from the rest the ranger found a cool, dark portion of the rock and began to unfold his bedroll when Arien caught his eye and motioned him over. They stood alone near the cliff face they had traversed to gain their perch, looking back over the path they had tread. Char scratched at his beard in silence, waiting for the knight to say what he had to say and unsure of how he could possibly be the one to console the man in his sister’s plight. Char wondered if perhaps he’d mistaken Arien’s motion and had somehow missed Kilgim standing behind him. Maybe Arien had been wanting to speak with the priest and due to Char’s misunderstanding the knight was now forced to find something polite to discuss in order not to make the ranger feel stupid.

“Char, I want you to lead the rest once we get in. My focus will be Alloryn and her rescue. If something happens to me, I want you to keep everyone together. Will you do that for me friend?”

The ranger’s gloved fingers stopped scratching at his beard and he turned his shaggy head slowly so that he could observe the knights noble face with open shock. This was not in the least bit what he’d thought would come up! Arien was a nobleman, a knight, and the obvious choice as a leader in this company of misadventurers. No one could deny that despite the youth and vigor those who had been with him on his last adventure had come to associate with him. But never in his born days had Char considered leading a group of adventurers on anything more than a game trail. Sure, he was adept at finding the path through the mountain passes, leading them across great expanses to water and the necessary lodgings, even tracking a trail through a rainy night, but actually lead them as one of those high-and-mighty commanders that had strutted about the camps Char had spent his youth in? Never in his born days… wouldn’t Kilgim be better suited for such a task? The dwarf was the cousin of Dwan, the leader of the Iron League, after all; and a spiritual leader, even though Char didn’t venerate the dwarven god, he sure could admit to the wisdom the small man had to offer. A hundred more thoughts quickly passed through the ranger’s shaggy head until he realized that he was standing in open awe and silence while Arien awaited an answer.

“Uh, sure,” he found himself saying. Then he blinked. What!? Shouldn’t there have been some question as to the sanity behind Arien focusing on Alloryn’s rescue when they hadn’t the foggiest where she was being held despite his certainty? Shouldn’t Char be the voice of reason and suggest that the wizardess could very well have escaped and the dagger had been written off as a casualty of the instance? Shouldn’t Char have suggested Kilgim to the post? Shouldn’t he have begged the knight not to let anything happen to him so that there wouldn’t be that necessity? Hey, look der, Char-lad. A cliff. Why no’ jus’ jump. Ya ‘ave da luck wit dat jus’ as well, no? Maybe ya’ll sprout wings’n fly ‘fore ya ‘it da groun’?

Still, all that was left hanging in the air was Char’s tentative, and somewhat surprised, assurance.

(OOC: Darkness Falls)

Char had overseen the descent into the valley below with a silence that hid the inner turmoil he still felt at Arien’s discussion with him as well as the excitement that rose within his chest at the arrival of their plan of action. Once they all stood at the base of the cliff, Char led the way as quickly and quietly as they could manage with their current assortment of armor and gear until he figured they were close enough that he ought to split apart and scout ahead. He could move quieter and quicker through these woods to make sure they weren’t being ambushed and return to the party to guide them without difficulty. Besides which, Da’ Moon knew the exact position of the grate better than he, so when it came right down to it, it would be she who was leading them the remainder of the way.

Focusing on the task at hand, Char suddenly felt something heavy pushing through the trees until he could of sworn he was being struck in the face by a strong wind. Blinking against the sensation, the ranger waited a moment, crouched, with bow in hand and arrow knocked, while his eyes danced about their surroundings in the hopes that he could determine any accompanying threat before the party was hit by it… then the sensation passed and the ranger glanced over his shoulder to where he could make out the silhouettes of those behind him.

Pressing his lips together, Char silently made his way back to the rest of them and crouched in front. In a voice that was so low as to barely be heard, Char focused his attention on the three spellcasters.

“Di’ja feel dat?” Having been a follower of many military camps growing up, Char knew that sometimes wizards controlled the weather to give their troops better odds and with the knowledge that there were wizards within the broken down keep, he wasn’t too concerned with being overly cautious.


Posted on 2007-02-15 at 04:42:17.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Wyatt...


I hadn't planned on Wyatt doing much of anything until the meeting other than inventory, running numbers, and trying to figure out what the best approach would be for getting the cargo off the ship in the most decent fashion (with Griff's safety in mind). If you folks want to chat with him; Wyatt'll likely be in the cargo hold until meeting.

Posted on 2007-02-15 at 04:05:47.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: He's posting elsewhere...


Blammm is posting in the Firefly game so I can only assume he's either ignoring me, or hasn't received my messages. I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt for now due to his posts elsewhere.

Posted on 2007-02-14 at 02:09:09.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Always a pleasure...


Preacher is yours. I'll get you a character sheet for him and welcome to the Streets, chombatta.

Posted on 2007-02-13 at 05:55:50.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: If you've got 'em...


If you've people who are intersted have them approach me. I want to maintain a certain level of writing so I'm reserving the right to be picky.

As far as taking a break is concerned until we fill the roster once more, I'm ok with that.

Posted on 2007-02-10 at 19:58:43.
Edited on 2007-02-10 at 21:59:59 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Well...


I haven't heard from Jazzer's player in a bit, so that'd be:

Jazzer (Netrunner)
Preacher (Netrunner/Solo)
Bullseye (Nomad)

Posted on 2007-02-10 at 01:44:25.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: As a fixer...


Spiff would definitely be more prone to talk than attack.

Posted on 2007-02-09 at 02:44:49.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Puff's out chest


I actually purchased a comm unit on my character sheet... *Feels all special for having his anal retentive nature come in handy.*


Posted on 2007-02-09 at 02:43:45.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Something's not right


Somethin' about that comment just makes the whole mental image all that much more disturbing...

Posted on 2007-02-09 at 02:32:59.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Back to the Boat


“I reckon Ma’s boy done got milked an’ then commenced ta getting’ his gun checked.” Wyatt glanced at Sam with raised eyebrows as the pilot continued with a knowing smirk on his face. “Kid’s got more hormones’n a ruttin’ billy-goat with ten peckers! Ya want I should go fetch ‘im?”

The captain wasted no time in considering his response. “Naw. Let the Kid have a little fun while we’re dockside. I figure you, me, an’ Willow can handle Dodger an’ Asher knows where Rocinante is corralled.

We got us a bit of time t’ pass ‘fore the meetin’, Sam. If you wanna check out the local color, I’m good with that. I’ll be headin’ back to Rocinante t’ go over some figures before Dodger tries t’ rip us off.”

(OOC: whether Sam goes with Wyatt or not, Wyatt will head back to the ship to crunch numbers, review the cargo details, plan for Griff’s transfer, etc. until it is time to leave for the meeting.)


Posted on 2007-02-08 at 01:30:01.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: I apologize if I failed to mention...


They are wearing leathers mostly, though some have Gibson body armor, but none have head gear.

Posted on 2007-02-08 at 01:17:31.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Rollin'


Wyatt heard all that the man had to say, though at first he was loath to swallow it without a chaser. His study of Griff put his mind more at ease though, and what’s more was he knew the man to be a straight shooter.

“Sense enough,” Wyatt frowned a bit as he contemplated the possibilities. Those fuel cells helped to settle his mind a bit and he hadn’t been lying when he’d indicated that Griff was offering way more than he owed. Of course, this led to the funny fact that Griffith might consider himself the sort who was now owed a favor should Wyatt accept the work. Sung turned the tumbler about between his fingers as he silently weighed the facts over, then he gave a nod.

“Done deal, Griff. Though we gotta establish a line somewhere’s here abouts concerning that cargo we currently hold ‘fore we can pick up a new brand. Shouldn’t take us none to long to procure us a deal—hell, got’s us a meet an’ greet this afternoon. We’ll swing by Royale after an’ solidify transfer of the goods.”

Rising from his seat, Wyatt reached across the table with his left hand, leaving his right free to skin his hogsleg should he need to, and took Griff’s hand in a strong handshake. “One last thing Griff,” he said as they released. “Some Feds were pokin’ ‘round Royale when we swung by to see if you was home. Where the Nien Mohn’s concerned one can’t be too careful, so I thought I’d pass it your way just in case the Luck o’ Three has somethin’ to do with that.”

(OOC: assuming Griff or Sam doesn’t have anything else to add…)

Tipping his hat, Wyatt turned and began to saunter towards the stairs and coat check, his eyes searching out Asher in the process, confident that Sam was right near him the whole time. After a moment, Sung glanced towards his friend and raised his eyebrows.

“Where’d the Kid go off to?”


Posted on 2007-02-07 at 04:37:35.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: Inside Out


The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:48am

Croaker’s orders were as quick as his response and the result was that two men rushed out into the rain, splashed through the gutter water, and hoofed it across the blacktop, blurred headlights heading towards them from the south, but easily outside of any danger range. Coyote remained where he was until Croaker and Preacher resolved their new position crouched down near the cement dais bearing the large tree. Caution had been placed on the back burner in an effort to get into a position where they could back up those Croaker had sent inside; so much so, as a matter-of-fact, that the two men barely registered the swiveling security camera at the entrance to the apartment building they’d just crouched in front of.

The position wasn’t enough though. They were still easily a hundred meters from the Hole and in this weather that made for poor marksmanship. Ahead of them, north along the east side of the street, was the private drive, and another, smaller tree planted in a simple box planter. This position would put them within fifty meters and almost kitty-corner to the Hole while staying across the street. The only problem with that was that it gave an angled view of the entrance; still, no matter how you looked at it, the approach would likely be spotted by those watching from the rooftop.

Coyote peered through the rain at the individual shadow he saw perched on the corner of the Hole’s roof for any sign that the man might have noticed Croaker and Preacher’s approach and taken it the right way; which was to say that they were advancing in an aggressive manner, and the gangers up there could never be certain as to their intention. Good money said that they should perk right up, take aim, and see if the threat was on their position, but these were gangers so Coyote hoped beyond hope that they were just miserable in their post, head ducked against the rain, and not all that observant. After all, a dead man don’t get paid, and a man who let his meal ticket get diced in a rival gang’s cubby hole wasn’t worth much on the Street anyway. So, Coyote kept glancing back and forth between the two men he was supposed to be covering and the guard on the roof. It wouldn’t necessarily be accurate at this distance, but the spray of lead might be discouraging, so Coyote had his miniuzi in hand, ready to pelt the rooftop should it be necessary.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:49am




The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:48am

The hall that the three intrepid edgerunners found themselves in was wide at five meters and tall at three and a half meters. The interior floor was ceramic tile, tan in color with a slight peppering of white. The walls were a bubbled plaster painted eggshell white and the ceiling was orange peel textured drywall with a coat of white paint. It was clean; an odd feature for any gang hangout and one that stood out to all three of them. The other oddity was that none of the Wild Things seemed to be drunk. There were a few with beers in hand, and more than one with joints or cigarettes, but no one was passed out on the floor, no one had airhypos in sight, and there wasn’t a single crushed beer can anywhere in around. Of course, living on the edge meant rolling with the punches, and in this case, the punches were all too corporate.

“So you are prepared.” Spiff was making a desperate play. He’d bluffed his way in the door, obviously putting Mr. Bald and Pierced off his guard, but the man was recovering quickly and the fixer knew this could get very messy, very quick, especially with all of the hardware these roughs were packing. “No, he’s not waitin’ on us. You haven’t been kept out of the loop, buddy. It’s a surpise. And don’t tell him yet, I want to see if Ol’ Stallion’s on top of his game… It’s all right if you don’t know where he is, gato. I’ll find him.”

It was a decent play, especially for one who had already fallen into the shark pit and was now swimming with a swarm of great whites, docile though they appeared for the moment. Unfortunately, whether it was that the Wild Things were tough veterans of the Street, or this new-found organization, Spiff, Peacekeeper, and Firewind didn’t know, but the ruse had worn thin and the first of the great whites was coming closer to take a bite.

“No,” Mr. Bald and Pierced grinned wickedly. “You ain’t gonna go find him on yer own, gato.” The man raised his submachine gun so that it was leveled at Spiff’s retreating back, putting his arm within a meter and a half of Peacekeeper and Firewind. The others who’d poured into the hall to see what the commotion was about didn’t follow suit right away, but their stances said they were more than ready to bring weapons to bear. “Stallion don’t like surprises an’ wouldn’t look too kindly on you just waltzin’ in swingin’ yer balls about as though you owned the place; giving up the information or not. If ya know what’s good for you, the lot of ya will sit tight an’ look pretty while I have me a conversation with Stallion to see what he wants us to do to—er, with you.”

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:49am


Posted on 2007-02-07 at 04:25:45.

 


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